


United

by sciencefictioness



Series: United [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape Aftermath, UN Trash Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 14:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20047378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: Gabriel hasn’t come with Jack to any summits in just over two years.  He stopped complaining about it, stopped pushing.  Three… four times a year Jack flies out to Berlin or London or Moscow, then comes back tired down to his bones.  Bags under his eyes, shrugging off Gabriel’s concern like it’s nothing,I just need a good night’s sleep.You know what it’s like,Jack would say, except Gabriel didn’t.  Gabriel didn’t know.  There’s ice in his veins and smoke in his lungs.How could he notknow?





	United

**Author's Note:**

  * For [besselfcn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/besselfcn/gifts).

> This is another of those stories born from a discord convo. Shoutout to [crook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedfingers/pseuds/crookedfingers) and [lee,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/besselfcn/pseuds/besselfcn) and the rest of you heathens, thanks for the tasty food you provide and I hope y'all enjoy.

There’s a reason he never goes to political functions anymore. Sitting next to Jack at the UN while he puts on that smile Gabriel hates and laughs at bad jokes and all but begs for enough funding to keep Gabriel’s men alive is insufferable. As though Overwatch hasn’t been saving lives by the thousands, protecting their civilians, keeping dangerous tech out of even more dangerous hands.

Politicians are all skeptics until they need boots on the ground, and then suddenly they’re believers, until the work is finished.

Afterwards it’s  _ the numbers don’t add up  _ and  _ the risk-benefit analyses are inconclusive  _ and  _ jurisdictional issues make it difficult to proceed. _

Gabriel would rather take a bullet, honestly, but sometimes there are too many hands to shake, and too many meetings that overlap, and Jack needs another body in a chair to smile and nod on his behalf. He’s not great at pretending they don’t make his skin crawl, but Gabriel does his best. 

_ I’ve seen the footage from your undercover missions, Gabe. You’re a better actor than this. _

He definitely is, but turning on the charm to complete a mission and doing it to stroke some beaurocrat’s ego are two different things. One is easy as breathing.

One is decidedly not. 

Jack hasn’t asked him to go for a couple of years now, and Gabriel is grateful, but it means they lose a few days together. Not days  _ off,  _ precisely, but it’s close to impossible to eke out any real time with Jack. They’re usually on different bases— in different countries, on different continents— and Gabriel is still in the field sometimes. When it really matters, and the job needs  _ done. _

When he doesn’t trust someone else to do it right.

UN summits aren’t exactly downtime, but even if they didn’t have a moment alone until late into the evening, just falling into the same bed together for three nights in a row is a luxury Gabriel finds he’s loathe to give up again. 

The chance to surprise Jack is even rarer. After fourteen straight hours of bashing his face against the wall at the UN, Gabriel will be a welcome sight, he’s sure.

It’s hard to get the time off without Jack noticing; on paper it looks like he’s slotted for a reconnaissance mission. It’s… not _untrue. _Gabriel is sure he could make a compelling argument for the logic if pressed, but Jack doesn’t press, because he never does anymore. He has enough on his plate without all the gory details of what Gabriel is up to when he rolls out with his team. If Jack looked at the roster to double check anything, Gabriel would be shocked, but it’s there just in case.

He gets to the hotel so late the first night that it’s really the next morning. Everything is whisper quiet once he gets to Jack’s floor. Gabriel pulls out his keycard— he could get into any room in the hotel with it. Any room in most hotels; Blackwatch has its perks.

He thinks about Jack curled up in bed, exhausted from a day of negotiations. Thinks about crawling in next to him, Jack warm and pliant like he only ever is sleeping these days. Thinks about sliding his arms around him, and nuzzling his face into the back of Jack’s neck,  _ hey boy scout, you miss me? _

The way Jack arches against him instinctively. How he smiles before he’s even fully awake, and moves to let Gabriel ease further into his space. 

The LED on the keypad beside the door flashes green, and Gabriel turns the knob slowly and creeps inside, dropping his backpack on the floor in the entryway.

The lights are on; Gabriel freezes. Only for an instant, but it feels like longer.

Feels like ages. 

Jack is awake, sitting undressed on the edge of the bed, face in his hands. He’s leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, defeat written into every inch of him. Not stress, or frustration. Loss. 

Devastation.

Gabriel has seen him like this before, but it’s been years. Back in SEP when their bodies were always on fire and empty and falling apart. Back during the crisis when they had to leave men behind— then Gabriel sees the blood smeared over Jack’s fingers.

Sees the teeth marks in his throat, scabbed over and streaked in red.

“Jackie,” Gabriel breathes, on his knees and in Jack’s face a heartbeat later. Jack startles, jerking away from Gabriel and ready to react. Gabriel lifts his hand and slides it under Jack’s jaw, holding him in place as he recoils from Gabriel’s touch. “What happened? Let me look at you.”

Gabriel doesn’t see any serious injuries. No bullet holes, no knife wounds. Just the bites, which are recent.

Recent, or deep. Jack takes Gabriel in and goes wide-eyed, but he’s still pulling away.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asks incredulously. It would be an accusation if it wasn’t so breathless. His pupils are dilated, his movements a little sluggish. He’s shaking off some kind of sedative, or opiate; something strong. Something with staying power, if the SEP bullshit in his system hasn’t eaten it up yet.

“What am I— surprising you!” Gabriel runs his thumb along the edge of one of the bites on Jack’s throat, brows furrowing together. “Who did this to you?” 

He lays a hand over Jack’s heart and pushes him back, feeling it pulse erratic under his palm as his eyes dart over Jack’s skin. It’s red, like he’s been in a rough fight. There are bruises on his hips, scattered in shades of violet. Bruises on his throat, like fingerprints. There’s— 

—there’s something sticky, between his thighs. More blood there, too, and Jack’s breathing too fast, and it’s shaky, and his jaw is shivering. 

_ “Jackie,”  _ Gabriel whispers, taking Jack’s face in both his hands. “Talk to me. Who hurt you? Why…”

_ Why did you let them,  _ Gabriel thinks frantically, because Jack is made of  _ stone,  _ but he cuts himself off viciously. 

Jack has always done exactly what he had to do.

Always gets the job done, when he doesn’t trust someone else to do it right.

Jack furrows his brows. Opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but makes a choked noise instead. 

“Gabriel.”

His voice breaks a little, strangled at the end of Gabriel’s name. Then  _ he  _ breaks, lurching forward into Gabriel’s arms. Jack’s heavy in his lap and clutching at his jacket. He shoves his face into Gaberiel’s throat; his breathing is ragged.

Gabriel only knows he’s fighting tears because he’s seen him do it before— felt him, shuddering and swallowing the urge to sob, hiding in Gabriel’s clothes. He digs his fingers into Jack, holding on so tight it hurts. It takes him a few moments to realize he’s rocking him, slowly swaying side to side.

Jack settles fast, even if Gabriel knows he’s not really any calmer. It’s a skill borne of practice, first in the field with his squad, and then in the war room with his subordinates, and then on the news with the whole damn world.

It’s okay if he’s falling apart inside, as long as he smiles for the cameras.

Jack’s not smiling, now, but he’s going quiet, going still. Ready to lock that shit up tight, and Gabriel’s gonna let him. 

Needs Jack to keep himself together like always, at least for a while. 

This is one of those things Jack doesn’t need to hear about; all the gory details.

Where Gabriel hides the bodies.

“Jack, I need a name. I don’t— you don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want. But I need to know  _ who,  _ and I need to know  _ now.” _

Jack laughs. Once, sharp and desolate, then sniffs wetly against Gabriel’s neck.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jack says, already tensed against Gabriel’s response, even before he finishes speaking.

“Doesn’t matter? What the fuck do  _ you mean,  _ it  _ doesn’t matter?  _ Of course it fucking matters! Tell me who. I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Jack interrupts, holding Gabriel a little tighter like he expects him to go somewhere. “Kill a few internationally prominent politicians? Pick off some ambassadors?”

Gabriel’s thoughts trip over  _ a few  _ and  _ some  _ and his vision is hazed in red at the edges, teeth grinding until his jaw aches.

“I’ll handle it. I’ll handle it, and you won’t have to worry about a goddamn thing. What happened, baby? Who did this to you?”

“Got our funding handled,” Jack says, bitter in a way that hits Gabriel in the gut. It’s not aimed at Gabriel, but it lands all the same, takes the wind out of him. “Enough to overhaul med-sec like we talked about. Enough to keep the eco-points up and running. I can argue until I’m blue in the face, and they still shutter half our operations at the end of the day, or I can do this, and keep people alive. Keep out shit together. With fucking…” Jack laughs again, “shoestrings and duct tape, maybe, but together.”

Gabriel hasn’t come with Jack to any summits in just over two years. He stopped complaining about it, stopped pushing. Three… four times a year Jack flies out to Berlin or London or Moscow, then comes back tired down to his bones. Bags under his eyes, shrugging off Gabriel’s concern like it’s nothing,  _ I just need a good night’s sleep. _

_ You know what it’s like,  _ Jack would say, except Gabriel didn’t. Gabriel didn’t know. There’s ice in his veins and smoke in his lungs.

How could he  _ not know? _

There aren’t a lot of people with the kind of power Jack’s talking about; power to pull the plug on that much of Overwatch’s funding, and make it stick. He’s not as familiar as he needs to be with all the players, but he can get there. Gabriel can watch security footage, and go through the attendance rolls. Figure out who is here, and where, and what they’ve been doing.

It will take some time, but Gabriel can get the information he needs, even if Jack won’t give it to him.

_ “Gabriel,”  _ Jack says earnestly, pressing his forehead into Gabriel’s shoulder, spine bowed. “You  _ can’t fuck this up.  _ We can’t make enemies out of these people. We have too much to lose.”

Gabriel doesn’t make enemies.

Gabriel makes corpses. 

His lip is curled back from his teeth, and he’s having a hard time keeping himself still.

Jack needs him, but Gabriel needs more. Needs to  _ act. _ Then Jack speaks up again— softer than before, barely there.

“If we lose it all, I did all this for nothing.”

The fight goes out of Gabriel all at once. Recedes into him, boils low under his skin. Gabriel hugs Jack closer and presses a kiss just under his jaw.

“What if it’s not just you, Jack? Men like that… they’re  _ always  _ like that. If they can do this to you, to  _ you,  _ of all people, who else do you think they’re hurting? Most people aren’t super-soldiers. Not everyone gets to make a choice.” 

He’s fighting dirty. On a large scale, Gabriel wants to do the right thing, but once he gets down to an individual level, Gabriel gives a fuck about maybe half a dozen people. It works, though. Jack stills again, but not like before; like he’s braced against a blow that he knows is gonna gut him. He makes a noise in the back of his throat that Gabriel’s heard on more than one occasion.

A bullet that sunk deep, hit something vital. A knife caught up in his lungs. The ground giving way from underneath him, and he’s falling, falling, falling, and— 

“Jackie, come on. You had to know.”

_ How could he not know,  _ but Gabriel knows how. 

Jack has been so worried about taking care of his own, about doing everything himself, that the rest all faded away. Background noise.

Unknown variables.

“I’m… I…” Jack curls further into himself. Gabriel can feel the shame in him, the abject desolation.  _ “Fuck.”  _

He’d feel bad about it, except he needs to know. Needs to do something, needs to make it right.

As right as he can make anything with a shotgun and a KA-BAR knife.

There’s no more fighting the tears, then. Jack lets out a sob, and falls apart like he hasn’t since the crisis. Animal sounds. Shaking like he’s dying. Gabriel is with him as much as he can be, already miles away in his head, someone bleeding under his hands.

“‘M sorry,” Jack slurs, wiping his eyes on Gabriel’s shoulder, hands trembling where they’re clinging. “I didn’t think, I’m… so fucking stupid, I should’ve-” Jack’s voice hitches, and breaks. “I should’ve told you the first time, I should’ve… should’ve never _ been  _ Strike Commander, fuck.”

“Stop,” Gabriel says, clipped and sharp, “no. This isn’t your  _ fault,  _ what the fuck, Jack. Cut that shit out right now. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what you thought you had to do to keep the most people safe. But now you gotta let me help you, alright?” Jack nods into his throat. Gabriel runs a palm down his back, rubs it in slow circles. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

-

There’s not enough room for both of them in the bathtub. Jack’s bulk takes up damn near every inch, so Gabriel squats next to it and lets Jack lean into him over the rim. He pets through his hair with one hand, and works a soapy washcloth over Jack with the other, scrubbing rusty blood from his chest and arms, and patches of dried, tacky come off the insides of his thighs. Gently rubs it over the teeth marks in his throat— the only wounds that linger, bruises all long gone. Even the bites will disappear before they finish in the bath, leaving Jack smooth and unmarred. Gabriel watches them fade like he has a thousand times before; no scratches, no scrapes, no torn skin.

Like it never happened, except it fucking  _ did. _

He gives Gabriel names, after some coaxing. Jack knows better than anyone what it means to tell Gabriel who’s responsible. It’s the same consideration he gives before pulling a trigger; maybe Jack isn’t putting them in the ground, but he’s certainly digging the graves. One name, then another, mumbled out as he avoids eye contact. Just a few. Gabriel asks if that’s all of them and Jack hesitates, and looks away.

_ I don’t know who all of them were,  _ and Gabriel flexes his jaw, and tells him that’s okay.

Even just one name would be enough. Gabriel is good at making people talk. 

Gabriel drains the tub twice, refills it twice. Tangles his fingers in Jack’s wet hair, and kisses his temple, steam billowing all around them.

“Can you do one thing for me?” Jack asks, small and young and vulnerable. He still won’t meet Gabriel’s eyes.

“Anything,” Gabriel says. It’s the most honest thing that’s ever come out of his mouth.

Gabriel will do  _ anything. _

“Could you tell Ana for me? We have to keep this quiet but I want… she should know. She can help you, but I… I can’t. Please, Gabriel.”

It makes things easier, if Ana knows. 

It also makes them harder.

Ana will do anything to protect Jack, but she’ll also make Gabriel do things _ smart, _ when he’d really rather do them _ messy. _

Gabriel meant it when he said he’d do anything, though, so he nods again.

“Of course. I got you, Jackie. Whatever you need.”

It’s not that easy, but parts of it can be; Gabriel can distill it down into something less complicated.

Things are a lot simpler with a knife, and an enemy, everything clean-cut in black and white. Gabriel usually operates in shades of gray, but this is different.

Somebody hurt  _ Jack. _

Eventually Jack dozes off curled into Gabriel’s side, trying to catch a few hours sleep before his first meeting of the day. Gabriel sends one of Jack’s security team to pick up a suit for him, then pulls out his tablet and gets to work. Tomorrow will be a good chance for Gabriel to see who he’s up against, gather intelligence, start making plans.

The roster says he’s on a recon mission. Gabriel hates that’s it’s true.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tell me nice things or come yell at me on [twitter.](https://twitter.com/scifictioness?lang=en)


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